Work poems
/ page 157 of 355 /
Jerusalem Delivered - Book 02 - part 07
© Torquato Tasso
LXXXVI
"But if our sins us of his help deprive,
312. Elegy on the late Miss Burnet of Monboddo
© Robert Burns
LIFE neer exulted in so rich a prize,
As Burnet, lovely from her native skies;
Nor envious death so triumphd in a blow,
As that which laid th accomplishd Burnet low.
A Boy Of The Ghetto
© Margaret Widdemer
HE goes out with his Dreams
Through the dingy city square,
Purple- and silver-winged
They go with him everywhere.
The Happy Warrior
© William Wordsworth
'Tis, finally, the man, who, lifted high,
Conspicuous object in a nation's eye,
122. The Lass o Ballochmyle
© Robert Burns
TWAS eventhe dewy fields were green,
On every blade the pearls hang;
The zephyr wantond round the bean,
And bore its fragrant sweets alang:
231. Epistle to Robert Graham, Esq., of Fintry
© Robert Burns
WHEN Nature her great master-piece designd,
And framd her last, best work, the human mind,
Her eye intent on all the mazy plan,
She formd of various parts the various Man.
Simon Lee: The Old Huntsman
© William Wordsworth
. With an incident in which he was concerned
In the sweet shire of Cardigan,
At Dawn
© Margaret Elizabeth Sangster
The dawn is here! I climb the hill;
The earth is young and strangely still;
A tender green is showing where
But yesterday my fields were bare. . . .
I climb and, as I climb, I sing;
The dawn is here, and with it - spring!
301. Lines to a Gentleman who sent a Newspaper
© Robert Burns
KIND Sir, Ive read your paper through,
And faith, to me, twas really new!
How guessed ye, Sir, what maist I wanted?
This mony a day Ive graind and gaunted,
The Two Summers
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
THERE is a golden season in our year,
Between October's hale and lusty cheer,
And the hoar frost of winter's empire drear;
Which, like a fairy flood of mystic tides,
The Beauteous Terrorist
© Sir Henry Parkes
Soft as the morning's pearly light,
Where yet may rise the thunder-cloud,
Her gentle face was ever bright
With noble thought and purpose proud.
83. The Cotters Saturday Night
© Robert Burns
MY lovd, my honourd, much respected friend!
No mercenary bard his homage pays;
With honest pride, I scorn each selfish end,
My dearest meed, a friends esteem and praise:
10. The Ronalds of the Bennals
© Robert Burns
IN Tarbolton, ye ken, there are proper young men,
And proper young lasses and a, man;
But ken ye the Ronalds that live in the Bennals,
They carry the gree frae them a, man.
33. SongIndeed will I, quo Findlay
© Robert Burns
WHA is that at my bower-door?
O wha is it but Findlay!
Then gae your gate, yese nae be here:
Indeed maun I, quo Findlay;
The Choice
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
This Consul Casementhe who heard the cry
Of stricken peopleand who in his fight
308. The Epitaph on Captain Matthew Henderson
© Robert Burns
STOP, passenger! my storys brief,
And truth I shall relate, man;
I tell nae common tale o grief,
For Matthew was a great man.
156. Verses inscribed under a Noble Earls Picture
© Robert Burns
WHOSE 1 is that noble, dauntless brow?
And whose that eye of fire?
And whose that generous princely mien,
Een rooted foes admire?
A Dream Lesson
© Carolyn Wells
Once there was a little boy who wouldn't go to bed,
When they hinted at the subject he would only shake his head,
When they asked him his intentions, he informed them pretty straight
That he wouldn't go to bed at all, and Nursey needn't wait.
